The Voice Of Reason
by starlight.moon.princess
Summary: Being stuck in the middle of two arguing alpha males is never a good thing. Especially not if they're law enforcement officers from different agencies. Unfortunately for Tony, he finds this out the hard way.


**This is set somewhere pre-Gormagon arc for Bones and pre-Jenny's death but post-Jeanna for NCIS.**

* * *

"I don't get it, boss," Tony said as he and Gibbs walked towards what they thought was the newest crime scene. "We've just cleared the Lieutenant's son of his murder – why are we trekking down town to look at a completely unconnected crime scene instead of searching for other possible suspects?"

Gibbs turned to glare at him for a moment before sighing. "The son claims he was around here last night, and his alibi checks out. However, you have to face the fact that there's something hinky about the fact that there's another murder committed here at about the same time as the Lieutenant's, _and_ that said naval officer's son just happens to be around here."

"What, you think he had something to do with whatever case this is? And that this thing is somehow connected to the murder we're working on?" Tony asked incredulous. "Boss…"

"Let's just call it my gut giving me hints, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied in a voice that brokered absolutely no argument.

"Of course, boss," the brunet replied, sounding duly chastened to anyone who could have been listening in – not that Gibbs was fooled by the act for even a second.

* * *

"Do I even want to know why you decided you needed all of this?" he asked, shading his eyes as he looked up from where he was squatting.

"Probably not," Hodgins replied, his voice far too cheerful for a crime scene, "But then, that really depends on what kind of insects you're phobic too, how well developed your disgust reflex is…"

"Disgust reflex?"

"You know, when you're shown photos of things like a rotten corpse, or you have to – you know – actually be within nose shot of a rotting corpse. When that happens or something of that nature is shown to you, you – and almost every other person in the world – show signs of nausea, a faint green skin tone, the works. That's disgust, right? Well, each person can deal with up to a certain type of disgust, and once you reach that threshold, it's unlikely the person in question would be able to deal with more disgusting thing than they're comfortable. And I've termed that tendancy to want to throw up at something the disgust refle. So yeah, just how strong your digust reflex is."

He was so involved in his explanation that it wasn't until he paused to take a breath that he realised that Booth was looking at him with an indulgent look on his face. In fact, it was nearly exactly the one he threw at Brennan when she started going off on tangents that even he didn't understand.

"Sorry," he muttered contritely. "Just – get all this sent to the lab, yeah?"

Booth smirked faintly at his victory. "You heard the man," he called out, clapping his hands to get the attention of the techs working the scene. "Everything here needs to be sent back to the Jeffersonian, so let's start bagging it, shall we?"

Hodgins quickly turned an eye on the techs, making sure they didn't mess up anything in a way that would bring Brennan's wrath down on his head. It was then that he noticed two figures trekking down towards the field they were in.

Neither of the figures were overtly official, but Jack had been around Booth long enough to know law enforcement when he saw them. He had no idea what they were doing here – having the FBI take over a crime scene meant that unless specifically requested, it was unlikely that local law enforcement would decide to randomly drop by. And he knew that they hadn't requested anyone extra.

"Hey, Booth?" he called. Booth turned his attention to him, following his line of sight to the two men he had spotted.

Without a word, he rose and started to make his way towards them. Jack just turned back to his crime scene. Booth could be a bit – well, _territorial_ about his cases, and he was just happy that he didn't need to be involved in the inevitable blow up.

* * *

"What the hell?" Tony exclaimed when he spotted the hive of activity in what Gibbs obviously thought was their secondary crime scene. "Boss, I thought you said this was ours?"

Judging by the dark, threatening, and definitely _not_ happy look on Gibbs' face as he surveyed the sight in front of him, he had obviously thought the same thing too. But before he could do something – anything at all (and Tony didn't really want to think about the varied things his boss could do to make a person's life living hell) – one of the people from the field started to move towards them.

And then Tony caught sight of him, and the only thing he could do was groan. The suit gave it away – it was almost certainly the feds, and seeing as it was Gibbs by his side – well, this wasn't going to make things easier at all.

And then the fed in question had to flash his badge at them, and Tony had to fight back the urge to bury his face in his hands. This meeting just had all the makings of a sure-fire trainwreck, and, of course, _he_ was the one trapped in the middle of it all.

"Seely Booth, FBI," the fed in question started. _Not_ a good start, especially with his faintly threatening tone.

"NCIS," was Gibbs' short reply. He brought out his own badge to flash, and Tony suddenly had the very bad feeling that he wasn't just in the middle of a dispute between agencies, but in some sort of a competition of manliness that only the two men involved understood. Obviously, the trainwreck had been a generous thought.

"This is a federal crime scene," the man replied immediately. "What exactly is the NCIS doing here?"

"We have reason to believe that this crime scene is connected to the murder of a Lieutenant that occurred two days ago, and we're officialy requesting that the scene be turned over to us."

"Well, I'm afraid this is fedral jurisdiction for the moment. If we find anything that connects this to your crime, I'll give you a call immediately," the fed – Booth, if Tony remembered his name right – replied.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." For some strange reason, Tony had expected Gibbs to say _exactly_ that. "Now, I have no idea who was murdered here that's got the feds fussed, but I have a dead Lieutenant – a man who served his country honourably for most of his life – and I'm not about to let the FBI make me push this case to the bottom of the pile."

"And _I_ have a dead college student!" Booth argued back. "Only twenty, barely getting started with her life. I'm not about to let her killer escape justice, especially when _I'm_ the one who has jurisdiction over this crime scene!"

Really, it was at times like these that Tony wondered just why on earth he hadn't taken the opportunity the Director had handed him to head his own team. At least he wouldn't be forced to make peace between two warring alpha males all the time.

"Boss. BOSS!" he exclaimed, finally turning the attention of both Gibbs and Booth away from their argument and on to him.

"What is it, DiNozzo?"

"Look, I want this crime scene as much as you do, and we're all wasting time sitting here arguing over who gets dibs over it. Why don't we just agree to make this a joint investigation?"

He didn't need Gibbs' incredulous look to realise the enormity of what he had just suggested, but, well, he had his moments of insight too. And if this got back to their Director and the FBI Director, it wasn't going to pretty for anyone involved.

And really, while Gibbs' fights slash foreplay with the Director was entertaining, it did get old sometimes.

So yeah, _he_ was forced to be the voice of reason on this one.

Of course, the force of both men's gazes _was_ a bit frightening, but, well – the things that one gave up for a being the sensible person in a group.

"As much as I hate to admit it, he might have a point,' Booth said after a few moments.

As Gibbs wasn't about come of as the inflexable one as compared to FBI, he grudgingly agreed too.

"Greeat. Everypiece of evidence here – and some stuff that might _not_ be evidence – is being sent to Jeffersonian," he said, "I work with one of the scientists there. I'll let them to expect you guys."

It was only after Booth had started to walk back down to the scene that Gibbs registered what he had said.

"SQUINTS?" he roared, "I'm going to working with SQUINTS?"

Tony watched, torn between horror at was going to come and a desire to record Gibbs' meltdown and email the video to Abby.

One thing was for sure. _Interesting_ was not even _close_ to the word for what this case was going to be.

* * *

**So, this is the first time I'm writing for Bones, and I'm still not quite sure on my NCIS characterisation...I'd love it if you guys would drop a word on your way out and let me know how this went! I hope you guys enjoyed it :)  
Oh, and about Booth - I've always figured him to be extremely possessive about his cases, and combined with Gibbs' hatred for all things FBI - well, not a good combination at all. And Gibbs isn't exactly the most patient person in the world - I don't see him dealing well with the concept of squints.**


End file.
